His Father's Assistant
by washu-the-powerful
Summary: Follow into the life of the old Phantomhive demon.   Although not bound by a contract like the butler, she is bound by another thing. Love for the man who took her in and love for the child she helped raised.  Now if only that atrocious butler would leave her alone.
1. Prologue

**This is my first story in a really long time. The Plot bunnies in my head kept mating, pretty much. I'll do my best on this and wouldn't mind critiques.**

**Right now this is just the prologue, So this is narration coming from the main Lady. I hope it is good enough for now cause in time she will recollect more and possibly give a better explanation of moments she mentioned here. Right now she is going over things and thinking to herself. Forgive me for any mistakes I may have made and enjoy the story that was stuck in my head for a long while.**

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><p>His Father's Assistant<p>

Prologue

I couldn't remember my past. I can't remember anything before that day. All I could remember that I was no normal human. And he knew, he knew and he still took me in. That kind face and those sweet eyes, He found me in the backstreets of London. At first he thought I was dead, lying face down in mud on the hard cold stone floors. But he checked to see, checked if I was alive. Doubting I was but checked anyway even though the ones he was with told him not too. Don't touch that gutter rat they said. She's filthy.

He didn't listen to them.

Although I was helpless and out cold, I could hear him. His words so calm and warm, Asking if I had a place to stay, he asked who left me here. I didn't say anything. I couldn't say anything for a long time. He must've thought I was a traumatized mute, maybe I was a traumatized mute. Who knows, I certainly don't. But looking back at it, I was probably just shy.

He was patient; soon he was the only one I could talk too.

He coaxed me out of my shell. With those sweet words and trusting eyes, he noticed my capabilities. How I was faster and more durable than a normal woman. So I became his personal maid, and assistant too when it came to his duties. He found me while he was at the tender age of 19. I didn't show him my full range of abilities till he was 21 though. That's when he took me on as his assistant.

Keeping me separate from the normal servants, I slept in my own room in the attic. Keeping me above his own rooms so all he had to do was ring a bell and it would sound off into mine, I became his protector as he became mine. I was his demon. He was my Master.

Noticing my potential at practically anything he trained me on. I had known little when he took me in only using small pieces of my qualities. I excelled at what I did, wanting to please him.

After all I had nothing really left to live for or do anything for other than him. Whenever he had a chance to relax he asked me to play something for him, and so I did. When he felt sporting he took me with him to the gunsmiths and bought me a revolver, teaching me basics in handlings of firearms. He told me I was doing well. I rejoiced in his words. He would take me out with him on trips, not big trips like going to Paris as he took with his family and friends but still trips no less, to big fields and towns and villages hours away.

I thought we were close.

But then she came in. A year and a half after I shown him my abilities and devoted myself to be next to him. It got ripped away, he left me at the manor more and more wanted to spend time with Rachel than to lounge around with me. Other servants like the maids snickered. Said I'm not the Master's favorite anymore, no longer interesting to him they said. I didn't want to believe it but I did anyway. Who thought he would want stay being around with his gutter trash. You can put a pretty collar on a dog but it's still a collar.

So I drifted in the shadows. Staying in the background witnessing important events, like his wedding, his time settling down with his new wife. I still had my room above his, so I heard all the sweet words he said, the moans she made. It didn't help with my supernatural hearing.

I started to act out.

Every night he spent with her, I was out finding rats. Not just normal rats but cheating rats. Abusive rats and even drunken ones who would abuse there family, just because they think they can. I was careful of course. Don't want to stir up any chain murders or random disappearances. No I only do that when I'm hungry. I usually frighten men, lure them in then leave them with the nastiest shock of fright they'll ever get. I've been doing that for months, powered by the frustration I felt every time I looked at Rachel's stomach. But he started noticing my disappearances. Told me to stop locking my door and leaving at night. He was angry with me and yet I knew he still cared for me. I told him I was sorry. Sorry for not being what he wanted. That perfectly chained dog ready to follow every command.

Then he did something I didn't really expect.

He hugged me, held me close. Saying that he was sorry, sorry for what I asked. Sorry for ignoring his friend. Who even though is a demon, but still had the heart of a woman. I just kept my head facing down, to ashamed to look at him. I asked him if he could keep the love making to a minimum though.

But then something good happened, something so very good.

December 14th, 1875. That day was something very special happened. A new addition for the Phantomhive house came. I only have seen a glimpse of him on the actual day. But when I did see him, I knew there was something special about him. At first I didn't spend much time at all with Rachel and her son. Not that they weren't accepting of me, but because I didn't think I was gentle enough or good enough to be around them. I thought I would accidentally hurt one of them and be sent away.

But over time Ciel took notice of me always accompanying his father. So when he would see me which was rare because I did try to hide or keep away from him.

I was too afraid to go near the fragile infant. He would ask me all sorts of questions, like what is papa like when at work. I loved the boy but I was afraid of him. Hard to believe I know how could a murderess demon be afraid of a child. But it did become harder to stay away from the happy child.

He kept finding all the spots where I tended to stay at the manor, finding and bugging me constantly when I was busy with my chores. Bugging me with questions, topics of conversation and or pleading to make him something sweet for him in the kitchen.

His father began to take notice how Ciel liked me.

He told me to stay with Ciel more, especially when he had to be away with Rachel on business trips.

It was awkward the first time. Considering the fact I didn't know how to be playful or how to take care of a child when they are sad.

Thank any and all the higher powers of the universe though, I never had to change his nappies or feed him!

Just be his company and prepare him snacks and play with him. I did learn from him though, I learnt how to play games and be silly when no one was looking.

I grew feelings for the child, strong enough to match the ones for his father.

By the time he was nine, we were inseparable. When I got done with my chores and he done with his studying we played a lot together. Even hiding from his teachers with him under the dining table, checking if the coast was clear, I got scolded from the other workers for being childish and enabling Ciel's bad behavior. I don't think Rachel liked it either that I was helping him miss his lessons too.

So I decided that I shall start teaching him how to play beautifully on the piano. And that didn't really last long cause of new changes.

I was told to leave the Phantomhive estate.

When I got the news I took it hard. Walking into Vincent's study I asked what was wrong. I think it hurt him to tell me what he had to say, because he looked down at his papers on his desk instead of at my smiling face. After being with Ciel his happiness rubbed of on me. Vincent looked at me one then looked bad down again. He told me how good it was to have me around. Saying he never regretted taking me in from that dirty side of the street. With no home, family, or even memories to keep with me, I looked like a kicked and starved puppy laying there he said while holding a sad little smile. I knew something was wrong, he never recollected that day hardly, he was always looking at the future looking ahead and enjoying the day ahead of us. He wasn't enjoying this day I can see that. Then he just took a deep breath and told me straight out. Rachel didn't want a monster to be around her son.

Vincent told her what I was and how he found me.

I know I was not normal. I know I couldn't be with Vincent the way she was. I know I wasn't Ciel's mother. And I know I was a dirty murderer, but I stopped. I never cried before over things but this … this was painful. I don't blame Rachel for firing me I know she cared for her son. She thought it was safer for him if I left. I had seen the logic of her ways, so I complied. I didn't like it but maybe it was for the best.

I left Phantomhive Manor a week before Ciel's tenth birthday.

With the large amount of money in my bank account Vincent made for me. I decided to go. Not bothering to look at anyone let alone say goodbye to anyone. I already had my bags packed with the clothes that he bought and had delivered. Telling me how prepared I am to make it well in the world; he hugged me and kissed me on the forehead, saying Goodbye to me. I hugged him back; I can feel myself squeezing him with his heartbeat in my ear. Didn't squeeze him too hard though didn't want him to find that revolver he bought for me.

He was taller than me, so I just kissed his coat Lapel with the Phantomhive crest pinned on. I walked away from that life, that life where I felt so many great things and seen plenty of beautiful things.

I wondered what to do next while I left walking off into the darkness, with tears wanting to come down my face, I refused them there freedom, but I couldn't help but let my body tremble in the cold darkness of the world.

Maybe I'll leave to America, A new start.

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><p><strong>Yes her name and description are unknown right now. They will be revealed throughout the story. And there are pieces of information that I left out till later. Like for instance the nickname she has for Ciel.<strong>


	2. Chapter 1

Err, Hi. Sorry for the long wait. I went through so many different versions for this chapter. And whenever I try to make the chapters I some how end up spending an hour reading up on what lamps did they use at the time.

And spend another hour trying to figure out how in the world did lord and ladies take care of there hygiene, which by the way I'm still not sure off. Needless to say I finally got this chapter done when My internet was being buggy as hell.

I chose that time cause every time I do have internet I end up reading everything on wiki and sites about the 1880s ranging from theater shows, tilley lamps, children's books, women's fashion, and even Labrador retrievers and other ideas of detail or plot ideas and other such.

I try to add detail but it hurts me more than help. I may have to be vague on some things but its mostly little things, like what type of dress she is wearing, or I may have to try to fill in the gaps with creative stuff.

I can see why people start to write there Kuroshitsuji stories in the modern setting. I kinda wish to do that with this same idea and see how much it would change. Anyway I hope you like this chapter cause I went through so many revisions.

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><p>Warmth…Warmth is what radiated off of him.<p>

I had another dream. Whenever I rarely sleep I get the same dreams every time lately. That warmth, the cute little look on his face whenever he wants comfort, He had a nightmare again. And knowing better to disturb his parent's sleep all the time he runs up here. I know when he's coming, because I can hear his sniffling, his awkward steps on the stairs that he wasn't fully tall enough to reach yet. And lastly the knocks on the door he does every time he comes in.

It's been years now since I left. I shouldn't be dreaming these old memories any more. I have a new life. One void of listening to anyone like there dog, I have a small place for myself. I rented a room for myself; I am a hired musician at a local lounge. I live in the quiet part of this big town. And I'm quite ….content. Content is good enough, not everyone can be as happy as they can be.

I kept myself away for a long time. I miss home. I crave home. Maybe I can move back to London now? I kind of regret leaving it in the first place, I chose to come here and didn't think it through, now... Now I regret it. After all he told me to leave. But didn't say I couldn't have lived in town or in the country nearby.

No, I got up. Sat up off my bed, even though I pay cheap for just the room, the woman who is the landlady does bring me tea every once in a while. I use the small stove that came with the room to heat it up whenever I get thirsty. Either that I just drink it cold, not much difference to me anyway.

Anyway whenever these same dreams occur I tend to sit in the chair in the corner drinking warm or cold tea. Whatever suits me at the time. I have a small room, two windows. A stove in the corner, a bed against the wall, and a chair facing the window with the closet behind me, a simple room certainly not good enough for company but when do I ever receive company anyway.

Days have been boring lately. Same routine over and over, no change in sight I suppose.

"How many days has it been? Since we last seen one another?" I say aloud to myself. I think back, quickly getting the answer in my head but I lay there like I'm thinking still.

"Three years huh, almost three years." I say while this time turning my head to look at the snow that sits on my windowsill and the ground around it. I've calmed down a lot during these months of being away. So much to where I sometimes I forget I have increased abilities. I've been turning into a lazy cat let alone a diligent dog.

Still even if it's tempting to lie down on your bed whenever you feel like it, I'd still prefer to get up and be productive.

"It's settled, I'll be heading back to London soon." I said, like as if I was announcing it to the teacup then to assure myself.

"I'm sure it will be pleasant to see my Little Lord again."

And with that I finished my tea. And started to pack my things while the moon shined on through the night sky, being the ever so observing moon, it too has a little tale to watch coming from all the way in London, England.

A young boy about the age of twelve or thirteen, sat up in his bed. With his hair covering his eyes, he obviously needed a haircut soon. Swiping away the bits of his dark locks covering his left eye, he got up off his oversized bed.

He stood up straight and tall like a proud man would. Not like a child at all. But even if he does walk and be graceful like his blue-blooded ways he still looked funny.

Because he was wearing his nightshirt and his hair was messy. He shook off some of the sleep that trailed on him. Even though his eye I should say was half open he seemed a little alert. Not wanting to wake up his other servants and occupants of this house.

Lest he be embarrassed if one of them has dare seen him walking to a certain area in the grand house of his, although it was own house and his property, he felt like it was sneaky to do what he has been doing.

Of course if your going up to your maid's old room in the middle of the night to assure yourself she isn't there anymore. You'd be sneaky too, especially with his curious butler prowling around the grounds at night. Always having to keep up a certain image, and always having to act like an adult. When he knows he's still a child inside, with childish needs even he doesn't like at all but still has.

I guess you could say it's his own curiosity and 'Needing to know' ways that he still does this. He knows she disappeared before certain hell broke loose. He knows she was different to the other servants that belonged to the house.

He could feel it, ever since he was a child.

With every step he took up those stairs, another moment that held meaning had shown in his head. Ranging to where she would retrieve his lost items, even if he himself had lost them on purpose.

For example when she was with him and his family on a picnic that was near by a river, he purposely threw one of his toys down a river and acted sad to her telling that the toy sail boat got caught down there on its own, throwing away an expensive children's toy given to him by his parents. Just to see if he was right. Amazing that she did retrieve it, with all the pieces to it too. He didn't get to see how she did it though. Which bugged him to no end how she did all that and have yet to come back soaking wet. Maybe she took off the maid's outfit and darted in the water fishing the pieces out? But then her hair and body would be at most somewhat cold and moist by the time she came back?

That was one moment that puzzled him.

Then another was when his father was having another one of his secretive meetings.

He'd always asked to stay and watch but ended up shooed away as usual, which irked him very much of course.

And when she accompanied him into those meetings, no matter how much asking innocent questions or trying to manipulate her into telling him, she just wouldn't budge.

Instead she would always repeat to him that its adult business and you wouldn't be interested in it, then distracts me with a sweet snack like cake and runs off while I'm eating it.

Course that moment stuck out to him more because he took the bait and let her get away from him again. Like she always done before.

But by the time the Little Lord has reached the door he shook his head ridding the troubling memories out. Ready to focus on whatever was in that room straight ahead of him, feeling the door handle that opened the door. He wondered a little bit how many times has he felt this familiar cold shape in his hand. But it reminded him, everything in this house is a replica of the original. Still though he moved his fingers feeling the familiar shape in it, he opened the door.

Just to find nothing there, nothing at all, only the window that just stood there. Never moving, never touched. He stood there in the doorway analyzing every corner. But nothing, no signs of anyone there at all, he closed the door on the room again and turned around.

This is really starting to interfere with my sleep.

And with that he walked down the path from the attic to the stairs that led down to the hallway. He was almost home free back to his bedroom till he heard a certain person's velvety voice in his ear.

"Another midnight walk around the house again my Master? You must really be more careful, this is starting to interfere with your dear sleep, my Lord." Said the black haired butler, ending the last part of his sentence with a cool smirk gracing his face as usual, of course he has known about these little walks into the attic. At first he thought he was just missing his childhood like any other human would. But now they are becoming shorter and more direct. Something that belonged in that room before is the center of his sleeping troubles.

"Shut up, Sebastian." Was what the tired boy managed to say before he walked in his room and closed the door in his butler's face.

And with that the butler walked away, with the thoughts 'As you wish, Master.' Gliding into his head as he started off onto the familiar path of where his lord came from. Up into that average sized attic room with the single window. He wondered a little bit of why his Master would want this room to remain empty. There is perfectly good space here to store more of the holiday decorations that the young mistress Elizabeth requested to be put up every year. The tacky colorful monstrosities could be neatly tucked away to never see the light of day for most of the year here. But alas he has to deal with putting them all in boxes and making sure they are fine in the basement.

"Hmm?" was the simple sound he made though when he noticed something was moved. A Tilley lamp was sitting on the table. It must have been sitting there for a while cause of the dust that it collected. When walking over he noticed another thing. Slightly interested he snapped his fingers and like magic itself the lamp re-lit itself.

It was a picture frame that belonged in the trunk next to it, but now it placed onto an old table in the bigger part of the attic. He picked it up and examined it and even though it gathered dust it was ok. The quality didn't really deteriorate as much even though it survived a fire. The frame was replaced but when you look closely at the image you can see the scorched edges. He looked at the picture again, this time he unfolded it a bit revealing the full image with burned edges and all. Scanning who was in it he seen the old staff of Phantomhive manor. Although almost everyone in the photo has left and or passed away by now, But there is still that one man who works with them now. Contemplating the meaning of loyalty in his head he placed the picture back down. Till he noticed something odd, while contemplating he must've missed it. A piece of another photo was sticking out of the frame.

'Must have been hidden inside this one.' Were the thoughts that struck in his head once he noticed the considerably small thing that was called a photo in his hand. Before he looked at the subject in the little window of the past, He looked at the backside checking for a name or year or any scrap of information. Nothing, nothing at all on the back so he just looked at the front, raising his curious yet bored eyes on the picture.

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><p><strong>Hi again, thanks for reading and like I said. Helpful reviews are welcome, An maybe advice too on the whole detail thing. I felt like I rushed through this chapter. Hopefully the quality didn't drop compared to the first prologue. I get worried and don't want to make none of the characters out of character. I hope I did well enough on Sebastian and Ciel. I know they may have had more screen time and dialogue but I'm starting small and this is just a bridge chapter. I'm just happy I managed to get around this stone and go to the other. As you can see though I like writing memories and his childhood.<strong>


	3. Chapter 2

"It's been a long time."

The day was bright, yet foggy as usual in the misty morning of the so very common English boarding dock. The first to leave the ship were of course the busy and the wealthy. Then the Middle class and others, but when the crowds soon cleared, there came a modestly dressed, tall, dark-haired woman who had an aura of fresh feeling freedom that could match fresh linen flapping in the wind free from the stains and soils of the world.

The Woman who carried a large Carpet bag and one suit case while wearing a sturdy gown made of dark green colored wool and who's shoulders were adorned in a gray wrap-around shawl stepped off the large ship, gracefully with an air of nostalgia yet also refinement floating around like the sun itself was trying to break through the clouds just to light her way. Strolling down the streets with leisure, enjoying the many familiar sights that were held in front of her like it's a masterpiece being unveiled for the first time, but even though it's in the back of her mind she knows that all the familiar paths she is taking isn't just for random strolling and lulling about. But leading to a place that she knows she can call to for some favors when needed. As the streets populations thinned out and steadily grew quieter, she knew where she was at; staring at the old building that just reeked of gloom and a tinge of death and chemicals. With a quick bat of her eyes, she reverberated back to her old stoic look of the face with a thin layer of agitation glossed over. And with her right hand set steadily on the handle of the door. With a quick shove the door swung open and the onslaught of odors came rushing. Easily making her agitation real and yet also comforting.

The scenery was dark…as always. Coffins, coffins everywhere! She grew quite use to it though, placing her bags on a nearby mahogany colored coffin. She sat down next to her bags and looked off at the wall acting oblivious to her surrounding by patting down her clothes and tending to her hair and bonnet, like any woman would do at the time. Then she heard the familiar quiet chuckling and soft scrape of the floor was her cue to turn back to the noise's owner. And there he was the familiar, old, foolish acting yet friendly acquaintance that she grew to like and was… fond of some odd perks of his. Never accepting money for a service, and always liked to vacate where his would be clients will be spending the rest of eternity staying.

The former she liked, the latter she always thought was very queer.

"Well my, my, A new customer. Did you come to see what it was like to sleep in one of my Custom made coffins? Or are you here to bring me a new Client?"

He slinked out from the barely opened door of the death chamber, wearing nothing but shades of dark gray and exposing only a grin that a madman can replicate.

Feeling that familiar gaze once again…It made her a little uncomfortable. Quite unusual, but she just chalked it up to because he liked to stare at bodies for an occupation…although her own old occupation wasn't much better. While loosening the shawl around her shoulders noting how cold it was outside and at least how it was a little warmer in here although not much difference.

Passing off the thoughts of the weather, she refocused her mind with the goal of her visit. And kept her eyes downward on herself and spoke quickly and curtly, making sure to have her eyes raise up to her old friend when she mentioned the objective.

"Cut the small talk, I know you are fully aware of who I am, my dear Undertaker. I have come for a place to stay."

Oddly enough the Undertaker's grin grew wider, if that was possible.

"My word, for a refined and practiced lady you haven't changed so much have you...Back from your trips around the world? I think you'll see many, many, things have changed in the short time you have been gone."

With eyes as mysterious as his appearance and a grin so large. He lifted his chin higher and placed his hands in one another. Although it looks like he is staring upon the ceiling, she can feel the eyes still set upon her. Little maniacal like chuckles escaping his throat every so often, now she remembers all the queer things that made up the undertaker, and how she must get use to these quirks all over again.

"You can tell me of all that has happened when I was away later, Undertaker. I am in need of a place to stay. Won't you show me kindness in return for all I did for you and lend me a bed? …Or maybe at least a coffin?"

Instantly the Gloomy old eccentric snapped out of its daydreams and like clock-work came to answer the calls of the friend in need.

"My Dear just by seeing you in my shop and asking me to share my bed with you, I'm flattered."

And with that he placed a hand to his face, pantomiming a young, shy girl.

"Thank—Wait what?"

A puzzled look crossed over the woman's face, breaking away that mask of slight agitation and half-lidded eyes. Noticing the already confused woman furrow her eyebrows further in confusion, the man in gray started to chuckle even more.

"I'll let you use my bed; I hardly use the darn thing anyway. Just takes up space, it does."

"Maybe it wouldn't waste so much space if you ever stopped sleeping in your death chambers."

"That may be so my dear. But people spend there whole lives in beds to only spend their eternal sleep in a coffin. Why not enjoy the comfort of one while still alive! Besides it's my own way of guaranteeing the quality of it."

He said the last part of the sentence in gusto, in clear enthusiasm.

"I swear I have never met someone who enjoys their work more than you."

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><p>Hello, remember to help me become a better writer by reviewing with constructive criticism. I hope I didn't mess up the Undertaker's personality too much. Also sorry for having it being short. I had to get this one out. So I can work on the later chapters.<p> 


	4. Chapter 3

"Shush now, nothing is going to happen to you."

During the cold, windy winter night, many people were in their own beds peacefully sleeping, but this night wasn't at all peaceful as it seems. In one house all you could hear was muffled screams and the wails of a crying infant. All noises were starting to die down, till a loud gunshot rang through the air. Alerting other surrounding neighbors and the abundant city all a round, beckoning the calls of the Scotland Yard Police Force to investigate what has happened in this home, what terrible misfortune and deed would someone do oh so close to Christmas.

The house was quiet for a few minutes after that ringing gunshot rung though the air, till the sound of broken doors and stampeding feet started to sound off. The smell of fresh blood overwhelming, they found the bedroom first, where the wretched stench flew through the air and directly revealed the source of the smell.

There has lain in all her mortal glory a young woman, who had empty blue eyes and cold pale hands. Still dressed in her nightgown…Or what was left of the nightgown. She had multiple stab wounds in the chest and a gag stuffed in her mouth. But she wasn't alone, leaning against the bed parallel to the door where the cries of the child came from.

Was a man with a knife in his hand…The perpetrator I presume, he was stopped instantly in his tracks by a single bullet that hit him straight into the heart.

But there was one good thing that has happened during this terrible night. The small infant, a little boy who was lying in his crib during this whole atrocious ordeal, has survived. The police looked for the other person who has shot the gun. The only possible witness who has saved this child's life, but alas they found no one. The window was open, but no feet imprints were found in the snow at all. Some would say it was a miracle or god's work that the child has survived.

But the Undertaker on the other hand knows that it was just the work of his meddling friend, who happened to be nearby to hear the crime going on while it was happening.

This unfortunate homicide and rape just happened to take place a block away from the Undertaker's residence. Needless to say, since the Police Force can't identify who the missing witness and or suspect was. The queen had sent out her Bulldog to sniff out and find this witness who can disappear so easily.

"At least she isn't a loud sobbing type of girl. That would interfere with my work now it would."

Said the gray haired man, who was currently busy taking care of a client, the same woman whose life ended prematurely the same day, early in the morning yet also late at night. Her stab wounds to be sewn up and tightened together, like how a woman's corset would be tightened. Busy at work, he was.

But on the other side of a door leading to his bedroom, They're sat a quietly weeping woman with a soaked through handkerchief filled with tears of sorrow and regret, who was cradling an old shiny metal revolver that was given to her from the one man who took her in and gave her a home. As soon as her crying started to die down, she thought of what happened to Ciel and then she was stuck in circles. She never had reasons to cry, other than one. But this whole lot of reasons that kept her in one spot for hours. Still cradling that gun and even pressed its cold steel barrel to her cheek. One bullet was missing from the chamber from earlier. Then she lifted her head when she heard the bell of the main door ring. Her eyes widened and her lips parted with surprise when she heard that familiar voice. That same voice she hadn't heard in years, that one voice that she was indebted too.

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><p>Yes, another update and yet its still short like the last one. I swear the next one will be longer. I'm just trying to get the plot going. Remember! Help me become a better writer by reviewing with constructive criticism. And I really enjoyed the positive feedback from the last chapter I submitted. Thank you so much for reviewing, and giving this Idea of mine attention.<p> 


	5. Chapter 4

It's been a couple days since the gruesome double homicide occurred. But even that wouldn't be able to put a damper on the season cheer that was so thick among the high class of London. Yes, Parties! Christmas parties everywhere that was overflowing with riches of all kind, of course who loved parties more than a little blonde girl named Elizabeth. Yes her family was to host a Christmas party as usual and dearly invite there close friends the Phantomhives.

Of course the Undertaker could use some excitement; he's been stranded in his home with a weepy, broken hearted woman. Who wouldn't want to get away from that for a while?

Walking towards to the door of his bedroom he pursed his lips as soon as he heard those familiar quite sobs. She was trying his patients now.

Yes he prided himself on his wonderful hospitality skills but enough was enough. This wasn't the usual Ophelia he remembered from years ago. No the last Ophelia did things quick and never felt guilt at all over what she done.

This Ophelia lingered over things and has been weeping like a child for the past days, most definitely not entertaining at all.

And so without a knock or a warning he opened the door and of course seen the usual figure lying down on his bed with a pillow soaking up the tears that fell.

"You know my dear, the more you cry the quicker my pillow is going to mold."

And with that the same pillow went zooming past his head and knocked down a vase of dead flowers that was paced in the corner.

"My, my, what a throw you almost could've knocked my hat off."

He grew his smirk back when he seen her sit up and seen the glimpses of her eyes watching him from under that dark shade she calls her hair. Obviously displeased with what is happening.

"Now that I got your attention, we got a party to crash tonight my dear."

His smirk went to a grin, and stayed that way too even though he was being currently grabbed and shook around like he was a weightless doll. Promptly ignoring all the curses, words and or shrieks of rage that was being directed at him for being so…oh what was the word, inconsiderate? Yes that was what she said.

Then her hands grew weak and that familiar glare in her eyes faded away as she instead put her hands down and stumbled back onto the bed and yet again pulled another pillow to her body, and of course silent tears were building up again in her eyes to only be crushed backed down.

This wasn't how he planned it, curse woman for being so emotional.

"Cry all you want my dear but you're going to this party with me and that's that."

He said while shaking his finger around like a father would when lecturing a child. Then he spun around to retrieve her other bag of clothes that was left out into the hall. Of course he was going to help her get ready. How embarrassing it would be to attend a party wearing nothing that matched or Heaven's no they were to show up uncoordinated.

Why he would just die if that ever happened. He had a reputation to protect now, he did.

"Oh no, that won't do at all. My dear don't you have any clothes that aren't old fashioned and bland or boring?"

After about four minutes of literally throwing out the clothes that were neatly packed in the small bag, an Idea popped in his head. And with that uncontrollable laughter sounded out through the hall down to the last door leading downstairs to where his work lies.

Needless to say, it stirred the curiosity of the lady that waited in the hall watching her absolutely loony friend lose his mind again.

Wearing her simple long nightgown with the blanket draped over her shoulders too, she looked like a mess with her unkempt, tangled up hair and her green eyes surrounded with red from her endless crying. The hall was dimly lit with one oil lamp while the mysterious room that she can only guess that's where he stitches up his clients was a light and was making shadows on the wall of what I could guess the Undertaker? No impossible there was two shadows of people on the wall!

And they appeared to be dancing?

One was obviously the undertaker due to his long hair swishing about with his long hat on. While the other looked to be a petite woman, a dead one too since her head was lolling about.

He was merrily dancing with a corpse!

Then just as it started, he stopped. Just let go of the dead woman's hand and waist and she fell to the hard cement floor. The sound of a body hitting the ground was familiar though, so that didn't really bug her. Well it wouldn't if it was a man getting killed but an already dead woman just being dropped like a toy after being merrily danced with.

Not even someone as experienced as she could get use to that.

Her eyes widened and unconsciously put her hands to closer to her chest when she felt the heavy footsteps of the Undertaker going up the stairs.

Step, step, step, Oh it was maddening to find out what the hell he was bringing up., and once he got high enough on the stairs to see his face, He was grinning again like a drunk Cheshire cat who was swimming in a wooden tub full of wine.

And then he got up the stairs and set foot into the hallway, he was holding a red dress that looked relatively new, like it was just bought so it could grace a deceased loved one. Only now did she understand what he was planning.

"No."

"Oh come now, its not like as if I just stole it off of my client. I asked her if we could borrow it first. And just like the lady she is, she said yes."

"I'm still not going to wear it."

"And why not?"

"You got it off of a dead woman, and dancing with her!"

"My dear, I was just asking permission and if it also makes you feel any better. The gown hasn't been worn yet, by anyone."

Silence followed for what seems to be like an hour, but in actuality it was only a few minutes.

"I won't be going to this party."

Said the woman with a stern look on her face, glaring at her very odd confidant who for once had no grin, knowing by the look she gave that she meant it with ever ounce of her being.

And with those simple words and that subtle threat of the eyes, he did nothing but moves his gaze up at her in the eyes and said these simple words.

"Fine my dear, but I thought you would just like to see of what's become of your old charge."

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><p>Hello!, another update!<p>

Be sure to review with constructive criticism please! :D


	6. Chapter 5

All right, thank you for waiting. I know I'm not the most on schedule type of person.

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><p>She couldn't believe what she is doing, first of all she was wearing a gown meant for a dead woman and she's currently intruding a celebration that obviously wasn't meant for her and she deeply felt she wasn't meant for it either.<p>

Having her hair done by believe it or not… the Undertaker, she effectively hid behind her dark locks, well at least her eyes and face did.

Luckily her friend had a huge assortment of dark, thick or sometimes thin too for summer months, but all very modest and covering of clothes. He lent her one of his many cloaks, a black, velvet lined material. Smooth and shiny on the inside, while a bit coarse and very thick wooly feeling on the out, His winter cloak he says, He commonly uses it during his midnight walks in the winter snow. Always visiting and keeping company of the long dead in the graveyard nearby on his side of town.

It was comforting to have… to say the least, the purpose of it is kind of…creepy but it certainly helped. Although sometimes he seems insane to be around and insensitive to others, he can also be very attentive at times…Although that is mostly for himself and his own appearance or for whatever purpose he has in mind.

He isn't the most trusting yet at the same time he is, He always tells half-truths and yet it is for a reason.

Very meticulous and sometimes mischievous, he commonly tries to throw off others yet at the same time draws them near with his personality. I'm not sure how to explain him whether to be a Venus flytrap or a spider and its web. Get to close and he tends to drag you in. Into what I'm also not sure of, I think it is his world. His manner of thinking and his ways of teaching are very unconventional to say the least.

But I do not regret meeting him; he is proved to be a good friend to me…And _Vincent_ as well.

You think it wouldn't be easy sneaking into a party with the Undertaker, whom by the way really didn't even change for the event, just changed his over coat with a slightly different one, the only difference being engravings in a matching tone of silver like his hair on the collar.

Nevertheless he certainly made sure that his partner looked her best…well as best as she can what with the after effects of crying. His words actually, he seemed to enjoy exaggerating how well and dandy he looked in comparison to his ruddy partner.

But back to the topic of how they got in,

Well while everyone was still entering from numerous carriages and walking and or strutting for the more frivolous type of folk.

The finely dressed guests all gathered into the building that was surely alight in the night sky, the Undertaker and his friend were trudging into the back of the building. Going through high snow banks and squeezing between ill kempt hedges that were missing there green due to the winter cold, so it was like getting jabbed by pointy pins at all angles, highly uncomfortable I'm sure…not that it bothered the Undertaker any. His clothes were so thick and his spirit so high.

I swear if it weren't for his hat that he would fly away in the night sky. He made trudging through the snow look easy, like it's a daily part of his life. Which maybe it could, who knows what secrets he hides in his oh so long sleeves.

They were close, very close to their destination. One last thing separated them from the Midford walls; they were so close they can hear the music going on and the words of a speech being held, most presumably by the head of the household.

But the last thing that stopped them from entering through a patio door or an unlocked window was a high red bricked wall. Originally it would be hard for most people to climb over such a cold and slippery wall, but a piece of strawberry topped cake for the Undertaker and Ophelia, whom by the way was actually hungry for strawberry adorned white cake and quite fueled her motive to hurry over the wall.

At first using her hands to pull back the cloak a bit she picked up her skirts and bent low to the ground, quickly looking drown from her shoes and up to the top of the wall and then almost effortlessly she rose from the deep snowy floor and landed on the targeted spot like a cat would nimble it's feet and stare at the spot it would sure to land on.

A second later she bent down on to her feet, leaning her bust and upper half of her body onto her crouched up knee. Hunching her back over and trying to hide in the shadows as much as she could. Lest they get caught now, it wasn't much good since the dress she was wearing was very uncomfortable and if this cloak didn't do well, then the light color of her gown could give them away. She hunched over farther and pulled the cloak apart even more so she could gain more freedom for her arms. Placing her thinly covered gloved hands on the cold snow blanketed top of the wall; she balanced herself and slid each leg one at a time over the sides. So now she was able to grip the wall even though she could feel the iciness hit her inner legs and thighs and it chilled her to the bone, but she had to act fast and help lift Undertaker up and over the wall. Then they'll sneak in a back window away from the party and slip in unannounced hoping to ingest some fine drinks and sweet cakes as at least some comfort food before getting to the mission.

"Come now you ill-disguised fool."

Says the dimly veiled woman who is growing a bit more agitated by the minute, course who wouldn't if you had to grip a freezing cold wall with your legs, having only thin underclothes that are growing icy and damp by the second. She wouldn't have to do it either if the undertaker didn't specifically say to _help_ him over, not carry him over.

"On the contrary my dear, I say it is you who is ill-disguised: for I can see your flesh, which by the way is not a bad sight at this angle."

As soon as those words left his mouth a sly smile came across his face and Ophelia grew ever more annoyed. The undertaker isn't usually a perverted person; he just likes to take any chance to annoy his companion. Commonly poking fun at her reserved and modest nature, course he would have no other chance to do those types of jokes. At most the only skin you see from this woman is her hands and wrists, even seeing her collar bones are rare to see.

Rolling her eyes and gripping the Undertaker's wrists, she clutched the wall tighter and hoisted the Undertaker up and over the wall with a bit of excess force so it was kind of a throw than a pull.

And with a smothered plop he landed into the snow of the courtyard on his back. That somewhat comforting Grin never leaving from his face and it grows…yes it grows ever wider.

"I have not known you to be a man of vile pleasures, Undertaker."

Spat the woman as she hoisted one leg over from the wall and hopped off to land curtly on her feet. Taking time to re-adjust her clothes and place the cloak over as much of her body as she can. For the cold chill is still clinging to her and a slight flush is appearing on her cheeks, whether from the words received or temperature of the night.

Noticing how long she was taking to rub her hands together for warmth, the silver-haired fiend felt his curiosity rise as his companion's eyes moved from hand to hand. It's quite easy to read her if you knew where to look.

"Not having second thoughts are we, my dear?"

Cooed the sly man, as he cocked his head to the side and shifted his eyes to see her reaction, he caught a fast movement in both her eyes and even he can see the twinge of guilt that made her eyelids lower just a bit. Deciding they spent to long and its best they move before her pitiful feminine born heart grows heavy and slows them down.

He stood up and did a quick shake about, like a dog actually. And all the snow that was in clumps fell off his clothes to be ignored forevermore.

"No, I'm not. I know you well enough that you wouldn't push, if it wasn't for a reason."

She said these words low, solemn too. But it's easy to tell, she says this in reassurance for herself. And she placed one foot forward and strolled off to a darker lit part of the courtyard, to a large window.

Every step she takes another thought raced in her head,

Why am I doing this?

I know I'm sort of being forced too but is that just an excuse?

It's simple though, we're here to see his well-being.

Nothing more, nothing less…

But then the sound of a click took her out of her thoughts, regaining her conscious she looked straight ahead of her and seen the Undertaker, standing there with his long dark sleeved hand to the window. She heard another little click sound and then the double windows opened, their little hook that was holding them together came undone.

Curious Ophelia shifted her gaze to her partner in crime.

"I do take good care of my nails, Dear. They aren't just for show you know."

And with those words he uncurled his fingers and long black painted nails that were half the size of his own fingers made their appearance.

Feeling a little chill go up her back, she realized now how he had comb through her hair. Oh and how that little lurch of the stomach felt when she realized what else he uses those long nails for, Oh how she prayed that he wasn't going to be the one to stand over when her own departure comes.

And then he chuckles, he chuckles a hearty laugh since he can see those brows furrow in thought and then the way she moved her hand on her mouth with disgust visible in her eyes.

He loved seeing that look, especially when it comes from an uptight lady who did her own share of dirty work. Yes he drowned in the thoughts of being the best at being repulsive. And then a newly energized grin overcame him again. She fed his ego real easily.

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><p>Can you find the hint that I put in this chapter?<p>

The next chapter will be here soon.


	7. Chapter 6

Originally these set of chapters that take place at the party were all gonna be one big chapter, but I thought it was best to split em up in bite-size pieces. Anyway, I have noticed that I kinda switch between first person thoughts and back to third person narration. If that is a problem for you to read please let me know. I like to see those constructive reviews that help me out.

Anyway, yes the plot will move along now. I'm working on the next chapter as we speak.

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><p>And now here comes the easy part and the hard part of this mission.<p>

Deciding it would be best that they split up; she undid the gloomy cloak that masked her away and gave it back to the Undertaker, who quite dramatic like swung it over his own shoulders. And they went their own ways in the dark lit part of the house, off to separate entrances to the Vestibule where there lies the party and its inhabitants.

Feeling slightly better now that she's out of winter's way and can feel the heat of the house start to warm her, she moved a little faster than her usual worn pace that was made due to the cold. She moved in bigger strides and a more fluid pace, the cursed dress though won't let her move as fast as she wanted. With quiet footsteps she somewhat remembers the lay of the house, now that she is inside and can see the familiar marks of the house. The dining room with the chandelier, where she stood at the wall behind the chair where…

No, she couldn't stand around and recollect old days that have passed. There is business at hand, And for once, no else's business but hers.

She walked off, off to where the music is heard and the smell of warm food that graced her senses. Off to the source of the smell first though, the kitchen is nearby if she is already at the dining room.

She could feel her eyes glazing, as she got ever closer to the kitchens. The smell of warm sweet buns ever more tempting to just break off into a full scale run, but she had to remain focused and access her thoughts and make them work together with her smell, Besides if she did that then the gown would surely tear.

To remember the lay out of a house you have only been too a few times maybe over a decade ago is hard. And a huge house like this is easy to get lost in.

But she made it, there it was.

The plain white door that had lay inside multitudes of chefs and kitchen workers.

She set her eye in front of the door, peering into the crack of it to see what she could sneak in and take. She was lucky, some of the workers were on break and left to do what they wanted. Leaving only a kitchen boy that was snacking on some of the food as well. She felt her mouth water as she spied the fresh food.

He turned around to try to snatch another confectionary and their, she made her move.

She slid in the kitchen not wanting to open the door all the way. And she hid behind the large counters and stoves, sneaking across from spot to spot.

Now she was so close to a tray of food that was ready to be brought out, but a foot away from the counter where she hid, if she outstretched her hand it could be seen though and she didn't want to be seen by anyone.

And then there came the sound of a door opening and a voice of another spoke.

A voice of a woman who was most definitely in charge, hearing a conversation dominated by "Yes Ma'am" and "Right away Ma'am" she has to be the Lady of the household.

The kitchen boy left to most likely re-gather the smoking chefs and fraternizing maids that were to serve the food. Hearing the last sounds of footsteps dying down as they walk away, Ophelia peeked over the counter and seen no one.

Lady Midford has left and the sounds of the kitchen's workers were getting more loud and close. A herd of footsteps rang through her ears she stood up quickly and trotted over to the nearest tray to grab at a particularly appetizing bun soaked over with glistening syrup sweet as sugar. She pulled at her gloves so she wouldn't get them all dirty and sticky, finally releasing her hands from those long elbow length gloves she grabbed at the nearest bun and ate it in a couple of bites noting the slight burn of hot food that hasn't fully cooled on the inside, then she reached to grab another one and with her syrup free hand, picked up her skirts a bit so she can scurry out of the room as soon as the team of help arrived to take away the trays.

Deciding it was best to move; she kept going at her quickened trotting pace and took a right at the nearest hallway. Moving on to where she can hear the music, still taking a bite of the cooling bun every once in a couple of steps. Eating enough to satiate her hunger and licking the syrups off her fingers she finally came to where she wanted to be.

A stairs that would lead her to the second floor, and bring her to the balustrade adorned balcony, where it overlooks the foyer from above and comes down to near the main entrance. And finally as she walks up more stairs the sounds of the night come in clear.

There is talk and laughter, among who I don't know. But she can hear Undertaker, speaking nonsense and confusing who ever dare to talk to him.

And then the laughter of a little girl, Yes the little laughter of Elizabeth Midford. Kind girl, very outgoing back then, Must be even more so now.

And seeing the light pour in from the cracks of the double doors, her steps slowing and now her heart beats are loud in her ears. She reaches for her gloves; they stuffed into her right boot. She may be wearing the special dress and gloves but look under and you will see her usual boots, of worn brown leather and little 1 ½ inch heel that were only made to be worn outside, but these were her only footwear and The Undertaker had no other shoes for her size of feet.

She places her hand on the door handle and her other onto the door to push, being just a bit paranoid she gives a quick glance around her. Making sure that no one is around.

And she pushed open the door, only to realize that it was a door you had to pull open.

Oh well, one broken door hinge isn't much...

Turning to set the door back in place to not alert anyone that it was broken at all, she could feel herself grow warm and pressure build in her throat when she was about to turn around. Don't know why but she always got a little nervous when entering a room filled with people; maybe it's because of the fact that the one whom she is looking for is hidden in these crowds of the high-class and lucky middle-class.

Luckily for her though not many were on the higher platform, due to dancing and couples pairing up for the traditional waltz.

She crept from the door and stood at a window, overlooking the side courtyard and she can see it started snowing, light fluffy snowflakes that would cover their tracks well. Satisfied she decided to take a little chance and place her hands on the railing, overlooking all the guests and their dancing while the servants still prepared the snacks that she had an early bite out off. Maybe she and Undertaker can eat at a table? Most likely not going to happen though, can't stay in one spot for long.

Going back to business, she looked on. There was Undertaker of course; he was so easy to spot with his dreadfully gloomy attire. He was talking the ear off of another man, a black haired man who always shifted his eyes from spot to spot obviously perturbed. Tracing his gaze she found her prize, There dancing across the room he was dancing the waltz with Elizabeth!

Noting how find they both looked in their best dressed attire, she could feel her eyes gloss over and a smile creeping up on her. He was dressed in red and she dressed in a light blue with white fur trimmings, he had lace and black fur spilling out of his sleeves. Oh he looked like a gallant toy soldier, and she looked like a winter fairy. She unconsciously leaned even more on the rail, her eyes tracing every movement in their steps and trying to see even more details of their persons. She was so absorbed in their dancing and to hear Elizabeth's little giggles of joy.

"Care to dance Miss? I can see from where I was standing that you must really want too."

That broke her out of her reverie, she glanced to her right and seen a man with hair a light ash blonde, she never seen that shade before. His suit being as white as snow, wouldn't that be hard to keep clean. His jewels on the other hand were full of Christmas colors, deep reds and greens being outlined by shiny metals like silver and gold.

"Come now don't be shy. I won't hurt you my little robin. Say I never have seen you around before, how terrible for me to not know the most statuesque lady here."

His voice was smooth and his words too sweet, it bugged her a bit but this is a good way to get closer. So she played along.

"Why thank you for your words kind sir. But I'm not sure if I'm the best person to dance with…"

She placed her half-curled fingers to her chin and crooked her face a little to the left and shifted her eyes between the crowd of dancing people and back to the man.

"No worries my dear bird, all beautiful ladies can dance. Come you can join me!"

And with that he took her hand in his own and led her down the grand staircase. She can feel a set of eyes on her, and she glanced to the Undertaker. But he was not the one looking at her.

A little chill went up her back as she felt the gaze again. A piercing gaze, one she never felt this potent before. It made her muscles tighten and the hairs on the back of her neck stand.

She felt better about saying yes to this man strange man now, hmm what was his name anyway...?

Eh she'll ask when they start dancing, got to make conversation somehow.

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><p>So how was it? Good? Bad? Or just boring? Please review and tell me your thoughts! :D<p>

Oh and I'm interested in having a beta reader, but I'm not sure how to go about that.


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